


Mi Vida, Mi Corazon

by empress_of_altea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Implied Sexuality, Intimacy, Love Confessions, Romantic Fluff, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress_of_altea/pseuds/empress_of_altea
Summary: Love can be such a vague, confusing prospect. But things became quite clear when Lance and Pidge met one another.
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 25
Kudos: 49





	Mi Vida, Mi Corazon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KennaxVal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennaxVal/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for my amazing friend, @KennaxVal. You've been a tremendous blessing in my life since we first met and no words will ever be able to express how much you mean to me. I love you <3\. 
> 
> For those curious, "Mi Vida, Mi Corazon" means "My Life, My Heart", and one of my favorite headcanons is Lance using Spanish terms of endearment/or being familiar with them for his lover.
> 
> Yes, Pidge and Lance are 18+ in this fic, but there's no sexuality (only implied light stuff). These events would take place during the series (later, where they have actually aged to be 18-19) but Lance's crush on Allura is short-lived and he and Pidge form a romantic bond during their journeys. 
> 
> And yes, I'm still working on the Kacxa Week rewrites!
> 
> EDIT (June 5th, 2020): I added a small edit, just to polish up a sentence that I didn’t quite like!
> 
> yet another edit (Jan. 28, 2021): guess who made this longer and fluffier, hehehe me. Other stuff is still in the works! *finger guns*

He was still getting used to sharing his bed with her. 

She was suddenly so _new_...but familiar all the same. 

He knew she had freckles. But he didn’t know how many she had. Or how they formed a heart on her collarbone. He didn’t know she had a birthmark on her thigh that she was self-conscious about but he loved it. He didn’t know that she mumbled in her sleep and he’d always tease her about it over breakfast. 

He had seen the scars on her knuckles but he had never kissed them before. He knew she stuck her tongue out whenever she was focusing and he found it utterly endearing. He didn’t know that he was the only one that could make her burst into a fit of brassy, stomach-hurting laughter. 

For all the arrogant serenades that spilled from his mouth, he had never been quite so intimate with someone, certainly not in a romantic or physical sense. But to share that ‘first’ with her, he considered himself mighty fortunate. 

He spent the better part of his nights with his cheek pressed against her chest, her heartbeat a clement lullaby. She was so _warm_ , everything from the smoothness of her skin to her slow, slumbering clouds of breath. He had to force himself to pry his body from her arms each morning and jumped at the chance to do it all again each night.

Despite every dreamy trait of hers he could name, she was far from perfect. She had a temper shorter than any fuse known to man. She could spit serrated remarks that could cut the thickest of skin. She could hold a grudge until her dying days. She kept her deepest regrets and woes clutched tightly to her chest.

But she also tried. Tried with everything she had. To swallow her pride and say sorry. To be selfless when being selfish was easier. To be someone who’s flaws were worth loving as much as her strengths. 

And he loved every one of them. Besides, in Lance’s eyes, perfection was terribly overrated. She was extraordinary to him, and her plucky abrasiveness was part of that. 

She could make a million mistakes and give a thousand guilty glances, and Lance would still be done for. He sometimes found himself basking in deep thought, musing over her and all that she was. It was a rainy day when he came to the conclusion that everyone had known for so long.

She made him happy. 

Contentment sprouted into genuine joy (no, euphoria was the only word to encompass what he felt), then into fierce infatuation, and then into undying admiration. He found himself frowning when she wasn’t around. His world suddenly filled with color whenever she entered the room. When she cried, he cried. When she laughed, he laughed. And it was next to impossible to not smile when she smiled, especially when her nose scrunched up in that cute way of hers.

He remembered the first time he sneaked into her room. He swore his heart was going to leap out of his chest. Shaky fingers rapped on her door and within a blur of awkward greetings, she was wrapped up in his arms as he planted tentative kisses all over her. He recalled her fingers streaming through his hair, occasionally running her hands down to rub at the taut muscles on his back. It... _she_ felt good. 

As he settled on top of her, hearing sharp breaths of enamor underneath him, he could smell the faint, aromatic warmth that blanketed her skin. It almost felt like he was high (the good kind, he deemed). 

She never knew he could so gentle. Every few kisses and touches, he’d pull away and dote on her. His voice was a little weak-kneed as he asked to ensure he wasn’t hurting her. 

No, he couldn’t hurt her, not like that. She was feeling the very opposite of pain. But it certainly made her heart quicken when he looked down at her with those bright blue eyes and bangs of brown.

Those feelings, that _warmth_ he felt whenever he looked at her, never ebbed or changed. They remained a constant, acute flutter in his chest.

Maybe it was a deeply-rooted instinct, or some emotion too intense to name, but it was one particular night when he settled beside her that he realized he loved her. 

But spitting those words out were far more daunting than he had thought. Whenever he would try, his throat would tighten and he’d end up fumbling on a poorly-orchestrated excuse.

But suddenly it was late in the evening and the words he wanted to say hammered against his chest. The lights in the castle had dimmed to their nightly glow and Pidge smiled as she heard Lance’s eager steps race to her door. Their greeting was an impatient but silvery rush of kisses and velvet touches. And he quickly found himself raking his fingers through Pidge’s curls of hair as he traipsed over the right thing to say. 

“Someone’s got their thinking face on.”

Pidge must’ve caught on to the wistful look in his eyes because she was smirking. She always found him especially cute when he was deep in thought. 

Lance hesitated but kept his tongue still. He pressed a lazy kiss to her neck. “Just dozing off, I guess.” 

Pidge tittered. “Wow. You’re an awful liar, you know that?”

Lance rolled his eyes in defeat, failing to keep the kittenish look off his face. “Doesn’t help when you can see right through me.” 

“So talk to me. What’s up?” 

Something gentle and genuine swept over Lance’s face. His eyes softened and a hazy warmth surged through Pidge. 

“I know we haven’t been a....” he bit his lip in thought, “‘thing’ for very long but you know I care about you, right? More than anything?” 

Pidge nodded, shivering as Lance idly ran his fingers up and down her arm. Lance’s mouth twitched in a million futile attempts to spit out the words he _needed_ to say (when one worked to protect the universe from such a zenith threat, some phrases were not a luxury). In a moment of brief, bitter fear, he considered withdrawing from the heavy conversation he was about to have but one look at Pidge and he couldn’t. So, he said it. 

“I love you.” 

The sentence came out fiercely, the words rawer and more unfeigned than she had ever heard from him before. She let out a tiny, almost inaudible, noise somewhere between hopefulness and disbelief. She didn’t even realize she had begun crying until Lance’s face became blurry. 

“ _What_? Lance, oh my god, I-“ she choked on her own incredulity, heart tight with so much hope and want. 

Lance ran a shaky hand over her cheek, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “I love you. So, so much. You’re spectacular, Katie. You’re braver than any hero, hell, you are a hero. You’re smart, always keeping everybody on their toes. And you’re _beautiful_ and _kind_ and to me, you’re as perfect as anyone can be.” 

Pidge choked on a sob, suddenly out of breath. “You really mean that? You’re not just-“

“Katie, I mean that with everything I am. And I know this is the most inconvenient thing ever. To fall in love when you’re fighting a war, but I don’t want to go to bed tonight knowing I didn’t tell you that you’re my world. Things are...” he scoffed dolefully, “...insane. And honestly, they’re terrifying. But I promise that no matter how crazy things get, I’m here. I’ve got your back.” 

Pidge gave a wet chuckle, gathering him up into her arms and kissing him, and the feeling was somehow more fervent than any thrill the cosmos bore. Miry eyes gazed up at the face glancing down at her with a look of pure amour. Perhaps it was the daydreamer in her but she suddenly saw the tiniest glimpse of a future.

“I love you too. _God_ , I love you, Lance.” She let out a blithe-sounding cry. “I’ve wanted to say that for so long.” 

Lance didn't try to stop his tears from spilling over, settling his forehead against hers, eager to drink in everything about her. And it was clear to even the blindest eye that, despite being thousands of light years away from his family, forced to fight in a war too brutal to comprehend, and unsure of where fate would lead him, all was well. 

Because he had someone beside him through it all.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is my intellectual property. Do not claim this work as your own or upload to another platform without my permission. Always remember to support your and others' works - ship what you want, love what you want, and create what you want.


End file.
